When You Leave Carried On The Wind
by SoftlySweptAway
Summary: When you leave it hurts. I'm here on my own wishing you were still here by my side. You left carried on the wind and I watched choking on its sweet breath.


**When You Leave, Carried On the Wind**

Crisp falling leaves ride the wind.

It is very cold today, leaving a bitter feeling within him. Sipping his tea in silence he glances away from the window to look at his kitchen clock ticking away uncaring of his anxiety. He finishes his tea but does not move to put the empty cup away, not like he normally does. Instead he sits at his kitchen table counting the seconds that go by, each passing one tears him apart.

He's late.

Arthur can't help but smile bitterly to himself at this thought. Of course he's late, he always is. He waits as another hour goes by signaled by the chime of the clock. The sun has long since gone to rest, something Arthur himself has still neglected to do. It's masochistic and Arthur knows this, knows it well. Yet he still keeps on waiting, hoping that he would come back to him again. It is only many hours later does Arthur get up from his chair and make his way into bed. As he lays his head into the pillow and closes his eyes, he allows himself to think of his love. The one that tortures and abuses him in his own mind, the one who he will never cease to cherish:

_Alfred._

The next day Arthur pretended like everything was normal. He pretended that everything was all right and that he didn't feel broken at all. Last night Alfred was supposed to visit him. They were supposed to spend some time together and catch up on all the years they missed while fighting. Years they were supposed to spend happily. Instead they were cold and awkward. Meetings were strained by both war and necessity. Arthur couldn't stop the small thought in the back of his mind screaming:

"_It isn't supposed to be like this! We're not supposed to hate each other!"_

"_Why are we apart?"_

Arthur went to work like he usually did. He talked briefly with his boss and then immersed himself in paperwork. After he finished his work, he started reading a book, a pitiful attempt to get his mind off his own misery. Normally Arthur would be captivated by the words and tantalized by the soft pages but his mind was too troubled to hold true to it and he soon abandoned his attempt. Why did things have to turn out like this? Why did he have to feel this way? It would be so much easier to feel nothing he reasoned. If he felt nothing, he wouldn't hurt at all.

Yet, another part of him replied,

He also wouldn't love Alfred, and that he reasoned was more painful than feeling nothing.

With a sigh, Arthur decided a change of scenery was needed. He needed to forget for a while. He then garnered his coat and his wallet and headed out towards the local pub.

Arthur was a frequent visitor at the pub. It was very close by to his home, making it very convenient for him to walk back after a long night of binging and not get killed in a car accident.

Arthur entered the pub and sat at his usual stool. After about his fifth glass of rum, he began to seriously feel the effects of the alcohol. He felt numb, there was no denying that, but not too numb. Not numb enough to forget how he felt. After another swig he heard a seat shift beside him noisily demanding his attention.

"My friend, drinking again I see?"

Damn just what he needed.

"Go away bastard, I'm trying to drink."

Francis took a subtle glance at him, sizing up his drunken appearance.

"I can see that, but perhaps you would be more inclined to spend the rest of the night with me rather then this uh…gloomy place."

Arthur gulped down the rest of his drink before replying. It seemed like he always needed a drink when around the man.

"Why the hell would I want to spend any time with you? You'd probably just take me back to my house and try your damndest to shag me like you always do."

Francis crinkled his nose in disdain.

"Of course not, just because I grope you does not mean I have any intention of how you tactlessly say, shagging you. The body is something to be admired and cherished, not taken advantage of."

Arthur looked warily back at his unwanted companion.

"I hope that means that you won't be taking advantage of me then."

Francis smiled back at him, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Of course not my dear, I am a gentleman not a barbarian."

Arthur rolled his eyes and followed Francis out of the pub. Outside was as cold as ever, leaving Arthur feeling very uncomfortable. It was difficult for him to concentrate on where he was going due to all of the alcohol he ingested moments before. A few times he bumped into Francis as they walked, making him even more uncomfortable and agitated.

"Where the bloody hell are we going anyway?" Arthur slurred glancing warily at Francis beside him.

"Patience is a virtue my little one."

Arthur scoffed under his breath and continued to blindly follow Francis into the night. They twisted and turned along old English streets, moving farther and farther away from town. Arthur was a little impressed that Francis knew his way around London so well.

"Ah, we're here." Francis's unusually soft voice lured Arthur out of his thoughts.

The two men had broken through city limits and headed towards the suburbs. They had made their way into a small little park; this didn't surprise Arthur at all. He knew Francis would try something romantic. What he didn't expect was the vast amount of flowers in the clearing, all of them carefully planted to be admired. Hues of pink and red blended together, peeking out from the fuzzy green shrubbery due to his drunken confusion. The vibrant petals clashed with the bare grey trees surrounding them.

How did they grow in this weather?

Arthur glanced at Francis and was surprised to see him staring at him intently with a strange visage.

"W-what the hell are you staring at, d-damn frog."

Francis merely smiled back; he turned towards the flowers as he spoke.

"Well dear, you've been very upset these past few days." Pausing, the odd look on his face grew.

"I just wanted to see that smile of yours again."

He fidgeted uncomfortably as a quiet zephyr blew by ruffling his hair. When did they get this close?

"W-well it was very impractical of you to plant them in fall, they won't survive the winter."

Francis smiled sadly, knowing that was the best 'thank you' he could muster.'

"I'm glad you like them", he started ignoring Arthur's embarrassed stutter.

Another quiet moment passed before Arthur gathered the courage to say what had been nagging him since the beginning of their walk.

"This… isn't just to cheer me up, is it?

Francis smiled sadly to himself, and that was all the agreement Arthur needed.

"Non, it isn't."

The wind blew on encircling the two men in hushed silence. Arthur breathed in its sweet scent and sighed.

"Tell me Francis, what is this about?"

Francis smiled again, wistfully this time, knowing the impact of his words.

"That little bird of yours, of course."

Before Francis could let himself relish in his companions confusion he added:

"The one you set free."

It was then did Arthur understand the weight of those words. It was also then did he remember quiet nights stifled in his own sadness.

"Why…why did you, have to bring up that?"

The wind blew on louder this time, coupling itself with Arthur's grief.

"_Why! Why did you have to talk about him_?" Francis's voice was silent to Arthur's cries as his body and soul comforted him.

He let him cry in silence.

When Arthur's sobs finally died and Francis moved his arms from around Arthur's waist and whispered:

"It is best you go home."

Arthur looked back at him, angrily.

"I-Is that why you made me come here? Make me c-cry and go back home like nothing happened!"

Francis shook his head and smiled knowingly. Arthur was beginning to hate that infuriating smile.

"Go home, and wait for him."

As Arthur looked at him in disbelief he added:

"I'll make sure, he flies back to you."

Hours later Arthur found himself in the same exact position he was in the night before. The clock chimed for the third time that night, another hour gone.

'I hope that frog wasn't screwing around.' Arthur thought, yet again.

'If he set me up to be disappointed again, I swear to god…'

The train of thought died when a loud rapping acquainted itself to his door.

At first he just sat in his chair, frozen with shock. His body was too stiff to move. The rapping became louder and more obnoxious, making it obvious whom stood before the door.

A sudden rush of annoyance flooded his veins as he quickly sat up, ignoring protesting joints and marched his way to the door. In one movement of brisk courage, he swung the door open banging it against the wall.

The tall man in front of him gasped quietly in shock, he didn't expect such an ungentlemanly action from Arthur. Arthur sized him up with one glance before turning around and walking back into the house. The door was left open swinging in the breeze.

The man wasted not a moment running after his companion. Embracing him from behind with strong arms, he stopped Arthur in his path.

"I'm sorry." He whispered head hung low into Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur made to move onward but was stopped again by strong arms.

"I'm sorry I didn't come soon enough. I… I was scared."

Closing his eyes, Arthur smiled bitterly.

'Alfred.'

"I was scared I shouldn't be the one there for you!"

'Alfred'

"I broke your heart Iggy! I broke it when I left and I broke it when I didn't come home. I knew I should have come back but I didn't!"

'Alfred'

"Bu… but I'm here now, and I want to fix it."

'Alfred!'

"I… I wanna fix your heart Iggy!"

"_Alfred!_"

Arthur finally turned around, facing Alfred. As he winded thin arms around a large torso, he finally let go. Arthur let go of his bitterness and grief and replaced those feelings with love and gratitude.

"I forgive you."

The clock chimed once again for the fourth time as two men climbed up the stairs, and headed into bed. As Arthur dozed into sleep and clutched his new lover in the dark night, downstairs the open door softly closed shut by the wind. Crisp fallen leaves danced from the porch and rode the wind. They rode on into the night past the quiet city and deep into the woods. Only then did they rest upon a blond French gentleman resting under a bush of yellow roses, slowly wilting in the cold breeze.

"_Francis, I can't see him, I've done him wrong again and again. It's best as it is!"_

"_Non little bird, it's time for you to fly back and truly understand what it means…to be free."_

A/N: Redone because I finally found an awesome Beta! I hope I added all of her corrections though.

~SoftlySweptAway


End file.
